You Said You Read me Like a Book
by x-Wabisuke-x
Summary: Sanji's getting another angle on Zoro, and hopes to see another side of him as well. Just smut with some musing. SanZo.


It was the first time this way. The first time the damn swordsman had given up on being a stubborn ass and finally let Sanji top.

Okay—it has actually been Zoro's idea, and secretly Sanji didn't so much mind being on the bottom, but he sure as hell wasn't going to pass up the chance to finally dominate the prideful bastard in bed. He was used to looking up- or down, at 'in-control' Zoro, and that was, of course, a complete turn on. But he couldn't wait to see how the shitty swordsman might look at someone else's mercy. Taken, filled, fucked.

Zoro wasn't a talker during sex, and neither was he. In more heated moments, short phrases like "oh my god" and "oh fuck" were muttered in one ear or the other, along with endearing, encouraging chants laced with insults. "Move faster, shitty cook." , "Bastard, don't stop!" But he wondered if this would be different… maybe Zoro would moan different, have a different expression—god, what if he blushed, what if he started to cry…

These fantasies drove Sanji as clothes were removed, mouths dragged over skin, hands squeezed and stroked and before he knew it, he was inside. His eyes drifted shut and his mouth open in a gasp. He hadn't been this way in so long, engulfed, enclosed, deep in that familiar warmth, and Zoro, he was so fucking _tight. _He heard himself moan, and for a few moments stayed still and just _felt it._

"Move, shitty cook." Came the demand and his high was shattered, but something else driven. Zoro's voice was hoarse, like he was holding something back. When Sanji opened his eyes, Zoro's were closed, tightly, hands gripping Sanji's thighs, fingernails digging in to his skin.

Determined to force out whatever Zoro was hiding, Sanji did as he was told. He started to move. He pulled out slowly- perhaps to be merciful, or perhaps to build the suspense, and then slammed back in, balls deep, just to watch the creases around his eyes tighten, and his teeth grind. He felt Zoro's hand shake against his thigh, and then his fingers tighten around it.

Zoro's face, his movements, they didn't ask for anything, not for more and not for him to stop. He was still, like he was taking in the impact slowly, focusing only on it, maybe just so he could bare it. Was that how Zoro always dealt with pain? When he lost to Mihawk, at Thriller Bark, when he won all those fights while injured or half-dead… did he not ignore it, but instead, embrace it? _Feel_ it and just accept that it was real, and go from there?

Sanji stared at his face, and wanted to read it, wanted to know, and understand all of it. He felt like Zoro was always content with hiding, never cared to show himself, and that's what had always pissed him off the most.

He started to move again, this time more slowly with small, in-and-out thrusts so he could watch Zoro's body bounce back and fourth against him, and his face with it. His face, his fucking face—eyes shut and teeth clenched, it hadn't changed, wasn't changing.

Before he even knew what he was thinking, he had to ask. "Does it hurt?"

Zoro's reply came in a heartbeat. "No. Keep going." It wasn't breathy, or husky, it was plain, and boring, like he was telling Sanji to fuck off after having just woken up from a nap, but with less grog.

Somewhere in the back of Sanji's mind he registered that as a sign that he wasn't doing this right—maybe he should pull out, start over. But more than that, it pissed him off, the nonchalance, the unchanging look on his face.

Eyes narrowing, he repositioned himself at a better angle, got a grip on Zoro's shoulder, and held the other on his hip.

Once again, he pulled out slowly, building the tension, and took in a sharp breath, ready to give it all until Zoro screamed- until he cried whether from pain or pleasure, Sanji wanted to see something weak on that face, something vulnerable, something Zoro must've already seen from him countless times, something he deserved to see.

And then, Zoro's hand betrayed him.

It was little more than a twitch, a slight, shaking curl of his fingers against Sanji's thigh- _stop, wait, please._

Sanji's determination softened, as did his expression, as did his grip on Zoro's shoulder and hip. Zoro's face was still unchanged, because he was trying to hide it, trying to pretend it didn't happen, or maybe he hadn't even noticed it had.

Guilt washed over him and he didn't know why. Zoro could take this easily- much better than even he could after the torture Sanji had watched him endure in the past. Compared to all of that it was likely little more than a pin-prick.

But, Sanji remembered that he wasn't here to hurt Zoro- wasn't supposed to be causing him pain. This was supposed to feel good. This wasn't a fight, or a competition, or a chance to prove anything. It was…

It was making love?

Almost as if on que, when that word entered Sanji's mind, Zoro's eyes opened.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Zoro became mortified at the tiny, almost silly smile that played across Sanji's lips when their eyes met.

"Cook?" He shifted nervously. "Oi!"

He shut up fast when Sanji leaned down and kissed him, and slowly pushed back inside, angled, and aimed. Sanji listened to him moan, definitely with pleasure, and knew he hit the spot.

"Sorry." Sanji pulled back just to whisper, and then buried his face in the crook of Zoro's neck.

"What the fuck for?" Zoro grumbled out between heavy breaths as Sanji hit him over again, and didn't answer his question.

If Zoro wouldn't learn how to be honest, how to ask for favors, how to show weakness, then Sanji would just have to learn to see through him. And when he did, it would piss him off royally.

He grinned against Zoro's shoulder as he moved in and out, savoring each tiny, sharp breath that was released in sync to his thrusts as he sped up.


End file.
